


Winter Nights

by twdsunshine



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Christmas, F/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-14
Updated: 2018-12-14
Packaged: 2019-09-18 09:06:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16992114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twdsunshine/pseuds/twdsunshine
Summary: Winter is setting in in Alexandria but, for the reader, it’s just an excuse to curl up beside the fire with Daryl Dixon.





	Winter Nights

The nights were closing in, darkness settling like a blanket around the little house that you’d made your home.  Along the street, the warm glow of light shining from your neighbours’ windows guided those returning from their day’s work back to their loved ones, and curtains were drawn as families settled down to dinner.  Wreaths hung from the front doors in a stubborn dedication to the season, even if there were no commercial trappings to the holidays anymore; just a loyal commitment shared by all to give the children of Alexandria a Christmas, whatever form that might take.

In the kitchen, a single pan stood on the stove, its contents simmering on a low heat as it had been for the duration of the afternoon.  The rich smell of meat filled the room, drifting through the open doorway to the living room, where a fire was crackling in the grate.  A hearty stew of rabbit caught by the archer and vegetables grown in the Safe Zone’s gardens was waiting to be consumed before the heat of the flames, warming chilled bodies as icy fingers gripped the bowls tightly to their chests.  Numb faces thawed as the food was savoured, fragrant herbs and thick, unctuous gravy mingling on the tongue and eliciting deep moans of pleasure as the satisfaction of a hot meal on a cold day sat sweetly in full stomachs.

And afterwards, you settled yourself on the floor, as close to the fireplace as you could get, and leaned back against Daryl’s broad chest, letting your eyes flicker closed as he tugged the thinning shawl from the couch and wrapped it around the both of you, his strong arms holding you close as his scruff scratched against your cheek.  You could smell the faint traces of smoke on his breath as he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, chapped lips mouthing at the skin until it tingled.  His hair was soft beneath your fingers as one hand snaked up to tangle in the dark waves, his own hands large and stained with grease as you traced his knuckles with your fingertips.  When you tilted your head back to meet his gaze, his eyes, though a piercing frosty blue, were warm and glazed with contentment, and when you brushed your mouth over his, the shiver that ran through you had little to do with the cold.

In one corner, a tree stood, decorated with threaded berries from the woods and a single strand of tinsel, rationed due to short supply.  A carved angel perched proud on the top, whittled during long evenings spent just like this, Daryl’s head bowed as he worked, the tip of his tongue poking out as he concentrated, while you watched in fascination as the heavenly being took shape.  And beneath the tree, two presents, wrapped in squares of a floral bed sheet that had been sacrificed to the cause, and topped with sprigs of holly.  Token gifts.  Nothing special.  Just a little sign of affection that said ‘I wanted to get you something’, even though you’d already given each other everything you had.

It didn’t matter much what you believed, you thought as you melted into Daryl’s embrace, a soft sigh leaving parted lips as the warmth of his body and the dancing blaze of red and orange and yellow before you crept into your chest and wrapped around your heart.  Whether you’d grown up learning about the baby Jesus and the shepherds and the Kings and the Angel Gabriel.  Whether you were an agnostic or an atheist or believed in something else altogether.  There was a magic in the air at this time of year, a spark that brought people together, made home seem cosier and love more absolutely and completely vital, and increased the appreciation of the little things.  Survival was tough now, each and every day a battle, but you had the archer, a man that you knew would do anything he could to make you happy  You had fences, and a roof over your head, and a fire in the grate, and food in your belly.  It was a lot to be grateful for.

‘Whatcha thinkin’ bout?’ Daryl husked in your ear, and your lips quirked in a smile as his grip on you tightened.  'Can practically hear the cogs turnin’ in there.’  He dropped a soft kiss to the top of your head, nose wrinkling as your hair caught in his wiry beard.  

‘How much I love winter nights like this,’ you admitted.  ‘I’d stay like this with you forever if I could.’

'Can’ promise forever.  Reckon we got a couple o’ months of cold left yet though.’

'That’s a start.’

'Ya don’t mind it?’  

You twisted your body round, nestling against his chest, rubbing your cheek against the soft plaid of his shirt and letting his scent fill your lungs.  'I don’t even really feel it anymore.’


End file.
